A Winchester Morning
by AwesomatoligicalHaliBug
Summary: What a not so normal Winchester morning looks like at 4 AM Weechester


It was an average morning in the Winchester family; John in his bed, the boys in theirs. At least, it was intended to be an average morning. Unfortunately for daddy Winchester, he woke up with is four-year old's foot in his face, and the smell of rotten milk filling his nostrils. Groaning, he pushed the offending limb away before getting out of bed. After discovering the source of the rotten milk stench was a carton of chunky milk sitting on the motel counter, he quickly disposed of it, sitting on the couch.

After sitting, John happened to look to the left of him, seeing his four-year old standing in the doorway of the bedroom. They stared at each other for a long moment.

"What are you doing up?" John asked. He glanced at the clock. "It's four in the morning."

"Couldn't sleep," the little boy responded. There was a pregnant pause before Sam ran over to the couch, climbing on John's lap. The man chuckled, ruffling his son's curly brown hair.

"You were sleeping just fine before I got up." John pressed his face into his boy's hair.

"Now I'm not," was all Sam said. He looked up at John, the father now looking into his baby boy's eyes. John chuckled.

"You can go back to sleep now if you want," John said. Sam shook his head quickly.

"No! I don't wanna go to bed!" Sam jumped a little, knocking into John's face. The older man winced, the boy growing stiff. "Sorry, sorry, sorry," he repeated over and over until he heard John start to laugh.

"It's alright, Sammy," John responded, ruffling Sam's hair again to reassure him. "Is Dean asleep?" Usually his eight-year old never left the side of his youngest boy, and was actually wondering how Sam had ended up in his bed instead of Dean's.

"Uh huh, he was real tired. He stayed up all night doin' somethin'," Sam answered. He leaned back on John. The oldest Winchester wrinkled his eyebrows in confusion.

"What was he doing?" John asked, waiting for an answer. At this time of morning, it was probably easier getting the answer out of a sleepy Dean than a fully awake Sammy. The youngest was bouncing softly on John's lap now, focus completely somewhere else. "Sammy?" Still no answer.

John sighed, standing and lifting Sam into his arms. The boy giggled a little when the man did this. John smirked for a moment before walking to the bedroom. He could see the form on the bed that was Dean; walking over to see if the kid was okay.

Dean was curled up in bed, blanket over him, with an arm curled around a book. John was especially confused now, as the kid hated reading. It was really Sam that loved to read through the picture books John had picked up for him at the library.

John placed Sam down on his feet, grabbing the book from underneath Dean's arm. The kid's eyebrows wrinkled in discomfort, tossing and turning before he calmed down and finally rested back into sleep. Going through the book, John noticed it was something that Dean would be reading at his age – if he liked reading. He shook his head. This could not be Dean's book.

"Dean?" John asked, shaking the kid softly. Yeah, it was terrible for him to be trying to wake his son up at four in the morning, but he was worried, and wanted to make sure the kid was alright.

"Dad?" Dean asked groggily, sitting up in bed carefully as not to bump his father in the face – something that Sammy didn't think of. "What's going on?"

"What's this book?" John asked. "And why were you up all night reading it?" Because he knew that's what Dean was doing. He wouldn't have slept with the thing otherwise.

"It's for a school project, dad, can I go back to sleep now?" Dean answered. He rubbed his eyes and John let out a sigh.

"Why didn't you read it during the normal day hours?" John asked, continuing to keep the kid up. The freckly face looked at his father with exhaustion tainted all over it.

"I didn't have time. Had to take care of Sammy." Dean didn't wait for John to ask any more questions, rolling back into bed and covering himself head to toe in blanket. John sighed a little. He turned to his own bed, seeing Sam knocked out on top of it. He chuckled to himself. _Can't sleep, huh._

Feeling a bit tired himself, John got into his bed, pulling Sam close, and hoping he wouldn't wake up to feet again.


End file.
